Chapter Fourteen

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Chapter Fourteen

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Revaramek touched his hind paws down upon the cobbled plaza he hoped was Mirelle’s intended destination. The only directions she’d given him on their short flight were a series of screams, shouts, and half-intelligible squeals. Something about a square and the other side of something or other, and then a whole lot of shrieking whenever he banked. After landing, he clutched her to his chest with one foreleg so he wouldn’t have rear up this time. No sense leaving himself wide open again.

“Now Mirelle.” Revaramak eased the trembling woman down from his chest.  “Remember, you promised.”

Mirelle waggled her boots, feeling for the ground. “You tricked me into that promise!”

“Yes, I did!” Revaramek smiled, lifting his frills. “But that makes it no less valid. Surely an important councilwoman such as herself wouldn’t want to be known for breaking her word.”

Mirelle clutched his foreleg till she  had her footing, then she stumbled away. She hunched over, hands on her knees. “Uuurrrhhn…”

“Are you going to vomit again?” The dragon shook out his other foreleg, glancing at her rump as she bent over. “Wasn’t even a long flight.”

“I’m…going to…kick you…”

“Remember your promise!”

“…So hard…later...”

“That’s the spirit, Mirelle!” He laughed and thumped his tail. “Keep your word now, break it later.”

“When you least….expect-HRRK!”

“You alright over there?” Revaramek followed her. “You want me to pick you up and put you in some straw or something so you don’t puke all over the cobbling stones?”

Mirelle straightened halfway up to swat at him. “You stay away! I’m trying…not to…”

“Oh, give it a moment, I’m sure it will pass.” Revaramek plopped himself onto his haunches. “If we’re going to be stuck together, you’re going to have to get over this whole air sickness thing. Didn’t you say there was food here?”

“Nnr…gimme a minute.”

“But I’m hungry, Mirelle. Where are the food vendors? I haven’t had cooked food in ages.” The dragon whined when his belly rumbled, his hunger reaching painful levels. “Now I can’t stop thinking about all sorts of foods just sizzling and frying and burbling. Perhaps they have bacon or eggs, with nice, runny yokes. Now before you ask, I had a maiden who used to cook me things, with lots of gooey sauces and seared meats the blood would just ooze from…”

“HRRRNKK!”

“Are you still having problems? Should I not talk about food?”

“NNRRMM!”

“Oh, very well.” Revaramek pushed himself up to his paws, glancing at Mirelle again. The girl was hunched over so far he half expected her to topple forward and plant her face in the ground. “I don’t wish to make it worse for you, so while you try to avoid emptying your belly, I shall find somewhere to fill mine.” He lifted his head and raised his voice to the various smelly commoners who stood at the edges of the place. “All of you dirty peasants stay away from the councilwoman, she’s trying not to vomit!”

Pleased with how helpful he was being, Revaramek gazed around the place they’d landed. He stood in the middle of a large square shaped plaza walled off by wooden buildings with colorful exteriors. Though it was always interesting to see the way humans decorated their various hovels, he saw little reason to care about buildings they wouldn’t allow him inside. None of them looked to have anything of interest to him, anyway. One had a display with shoes and boots, while bright clothing hung from poles in front of another.

Several wooden stalls with cooking fires behind them occupied the square’s far corner. Tables and chairs were set up around them, and a few people stared at the dragon, their meals forgotten. Even the cooks were staring, framed by rising smoke. Revaramek smiled and strode towards the food vendors. He didn’t mind being stared at for it made him feel important.

As he crossed the plaza, he passed a building near the corner with a sign atop its even depicting an open book. The paint was flaking off the sign, making it look as though the book was old and moth eaten. Revaramek ducked his head and peered through the open door. Several long shelves lined with tomes lay with within. So many exciting tales. It made him wish he could fit through the door. He padded closer, and sniffed at the doorway. The smell of old parchment and vellum wafted from the place.

The scents pulled memories up from the mire of his mind. That same smell, in the burning village he’d visited earlier in the week. Just like the burning vellum he’d smelled when he burned that bookseller’s wagon. He cocked his head, suddenly unsure. Why had he done that? He could hardly remember anymore, only remembered the smell of burning vellum, the acrid smoke of scorched parchment. He liked exciting tales, why would he have burned a wagon full of them?

Revaramek lifted a paw and rubbed his head. His mind felt foggy. He must have been angry at that book vender. Refused to give the dragon his collection. Or maybe he’d just been drunk. Or had he just stumbled upon it after someone else had lit it aflame? It wouldn’t have been the first time he sought to convince himself of a new reality. Like the truce itself. It hurt to be reminded of what he’d become to these people. He should be their overlord, not their servant. A great and glorious conqueror, a resplendent dragon like from the tales.

The dragon shook himself, and padded away from the book seller. Perhaps later he’d send Mirelle inside to take an inventory, see if there were any stories in there he hadn’t already heard. Then he could have her read them to him and other friends at night. That would be nice. Surely even a stuck up, bossy wench like Mirelle couldn’t deny the simple pleasure of a good story.

As he left the building, something blue and yellow caught his attention down an alleyway. A wagon was parked there, with blue walls, and a yellow roof and wheels. Books were painted across it. It must have been the delivery wagon for the bookstore. And yet it seemed strangely familiar. Revaramek stared at it, cocking his head. It almost looked like the same one he’d burned. Or…had he? Suddenly he couldn’t quite remember. In his youthful, conquering days, he’d burned a few things by mistake. Maybe that was how the bookseller’s wagon caught flame. Or had he just stumbled upon it?

Or hell, maybe he’d just dreamt the whole thing in his youth. Some nights his dreams were so vivid it took him a moment to separate them from reality when he woke, and that scent penetrated his subconscious more than once. When he was younger, he used to dream of piercing the sky itself, seeking to conquer the great beyond. Yet in some dreams, all that lay beyond the sky was darkness, and the smell of burning vellum, as if the whole world had burnt away to nothingness beneath him.

Revaramek cocked his head. It had been a while since he’d thought of those dreams. In his youth they’d left him with the lingering, aimless dread of nightmares. Now the memory just left him saddened and he wasn’t quite sure why.

He shook his head a few times. He could almost smell that damn burning vellum again now. But now he was sure he hadn’t burned that bookseller’s wagon back then.  He’d…stumbled upon, already aflame, drawn by the scent of scorched parchment.

Yes, he was sure of it now.

“This is your fault, you confusing wagon! I should burn you!” He snapped his jaws at it. “Again! Or…for the first time!” He arched his neck, rattling his spines. “Wait, you’re probably just…painted the same. But it’s still your fault!”

Feeling sure of himself again, Revaramek turned around. His tail crashed through a wooden pole supporting an overhanging eave. The poled snapped, and the eave collapsed into the store front, followed by a cascade of baking clay roofing tiles. The streamed off the roof and shattered against the boardwalk, one after another.

Oops. He decided he’d best flee before anyone dared suggest he was bumbling.

“Councilwoman Mirelle will pay for that!”

Revaramek bounced away from the scene of the crime, and galloped towards the food stalls. All the vendors and all the patrons all yelled and screamed and scrambled out of the dragon’s way just before he skidded to a stop. He unsheathed his claws for traction, and they caught a crack between cobblestones. His forelegs came to a screeching halt and sent him toppling forward. His jaw slammed onto a tabletop, knocking mugs and plates flying. Pain thudded through his head, and left whirling motes dancing in his vision.

“Ow.” Revaramek pushed himself back up. He wobbled to the side, stepping on a chair with a hind paw. It cracked and shattered under his weight. He stumbled back the other way. “Council…woman…Mirelle…llrrrhhhn…”

“Are you about done wrecking the place, Dragon?”

Oh, there was Miss Angry Boots now. He shook his head, tried to lick his aching jaw, and then flopped onto his haunches. “I…dunno. You done vomiting?”

“I didn’t vomit, no thanks to you.”

“So an improvement from your first flight.” Revaramek started to laugh, but stopped when it made his jaw hurt. He winced, his spines all pinned back. He lifted a paw and rubbed proved his muzzle, whining.

“Are you alright?” Mirelle walked in front of him. “Let me see.”

Revaramek turned his head, giving her a cautious look.

“Oh quit being a baby and let me see.”

“I’m not a baby.” Revaramek hissed at her, lowering his head. “You’re a baby.”

“You are such a child.” Mirelle put one hand on either side of his jaw. Her touch was soft and gentle as she ran her fingers down his jaw bones. “You’ve some broken scales but you’re not bleeding, and don’t think you’ve broken anything.” She pulled her hands away and gestured at the seating area. “Aside from the furniture, that is. And that roof by the bookstore. And my bank account if you can’t keep your damn tail under control.”

“I’m not a child.” Revaramek pulled his head back and worked his jaws a few times. “You’re a child.”

Mirelle collected the pieces of the broken chair, and set them aside, then pulled a few tables out of his way. She gave him a long, curious look. “You’re a little touched, aren’t you.”

“I’d like to be touched a little.” Revaramek smirked, then rubbed his jaw. It still ached but the throbbing was already starting to relent.

“You’re going to be touched by my boot in a minute.”

“Is that the only way you solve problems?”

“Seems to be the only thing that gets through to you.” She gazed around the small food court area, scowling. “Now that you’ve scared off all the vendors, you may as well help yourself. As much as I hate too, I did offer to buy you some food, so eat what you want, and they can bill me.” She shook a finger at his muzzle. “What are my chances of leaving you here to eat your food and returning to find the place relatively intact?”

Revaramek crossed his eyes, focusing on her finger. “I don’t like what you’re in implying. I shall be a perfect gentleman. Where are you going?”

“I sincerely doubt dragons even possess the ability to be gentle, but I’ve got little choice.” She turned and pointed out a few shops across the square. “I’m going there, and there. If you finish your food before  I return, come and find me. Don’t go wandering off.”

“What if I have to piss or something?” Revaramek arched his neck. Surely she didn’t want him to empty his bladder all over the plaza.

Mirelle took a breath so deep Revaramek flicked his flight membranes closed, just in case she exploded. “Then…go and find an empty meadow.”

“I used your back yard last night, I could go back there.”

“You what?”

Uh oh. Revaramek covered his testicles with a paw, wishing he’d brought that pot. “I was drunk! I wasn’t going to go and fly outside the village. I might crash, and that would be irresponsible.”

“Aaarrgggh!” Mirelle through her hands up and stomped away from the dragon.

“You make that noise a lot.” Revaramek cocked his head, watching her stride away. His eyes drifted lower. For a human, she really did have a nice-

“Stop staring at my ass!”

Revaramek jerked his head back, his spines up and eyes wide. “How did you know?”

Mirelle made an impressively obscene gesture and kept walking.

“Ooh, that’s a good one Mirelle. I shall have to remember that.”

Revaramek watched the girl until she vanished into a shop across the way. No sense turning his hind end towards her until he was sure she wasn’t going to sneak back and kick him again. When he was satisfied she wasn’t just plotting an elaborate ambush, he eased back to his paws and padded through the food court.

The vendors all carried a variety of foods, and the scents of sizzling meats and vegetables made his rumbling stomach even more impatient. A quick glance around told him none of the vendors themselves were in any hurry to come back, but a few watched him from a distance. Another stared at him over a guard’s red and blue shoulder. Well, if they didn’t want to converse with their overlord, he’d just do as Mirelle suggested and help himself.

One of their rickety wooden stalls had a couple buckets filled with water alongside it. Revaramek drank the water, and then used the buckets to collect his food. One stall had a metal grill over coals, were they were cooking plump sausage links and slabs of meat. Another was frying bacon and fish together in one pan, with rice and egg in another. Another had some kind of dough-blobs cooking, along with vats of fruit smashed into a paste. He knew humans had names for things like that, but he could never remember them all.

Everything looked good, though, so he took it all. He used his claws to spear things from grills and pans, then deposited them in his buckets. Then he piled in the rice and eggs, and the half-cooked cooked dough, before jamming in the fruit paste. Wait, that was it. Jam. Once he’d effectively emptied the food stalls, he settled down nearby to shove his muzzle into the buckets and devour everything he’d collected.

Though Revaramek enjoyed cooked food whenever he had the chance to eat it, he rarely had the patience to stop and savor individual bites the way humans did. Instead, he just chomped down everything he had. Each mouthful brought a new set of mixed flavors. Eggs with fruit, fish with rice, buns with bacon. As he ate, roughly one third of his breakfast ended up on the ground. So when the buckets were empty, he snatched up the food that had fallen to the ground, then licked his muzzle clean. Then he returned to the stalls, found one with bottles of fruit juice, and dumped all those into his bucket. He lapped up all the juice, licked out the bucket, and then set it atop one of the food stalls.

Satisfied and full, the dragon turned away from the stalls, careful this time to make sure his tail didn’t hit anything. He took a few steps away from the stall, watching his tail over his wings. Flames sprung up behind him, and he realized he’d set the bucket atop the grate over a cooking fire. The flames rose quickly, and soon ignited the banner strung above the stall.

“Me old gran’s banner!”

Revaramek cringed. “What are you people doing, just following me around? One of you smelly townsfolk come put this out before it spreads.” Revaramek strode away, resisting the urge to break into a gallop. “Councilwoman Mirelle will pay for…well you know!”

Guards and peasants ran towards the stalls behind the dragon. “Quick, douse the flames!”

“He drank all the dousing water!”

“Use the juice!”

“He drank that too!”

“Beat the flames back with your shirts!”

“Me shirt’s on fire!”

“Me old gran made that shirt!”

Revaramek shuddered. What was he, stuck in a recurring nightmare? He galloped the rest of the way across the plaza to the shop Mirelle pointed out. This time he came to a stop early enough to avoid crashing into anything, only for Mirelle to emerge from the entryway. He flared a wing to hide the fiery scene across the square from her, only to realize she could still see all the smoke rising behind him.

“Erm…Hello, Mirelle…so, the funniest thing happened.”

“Can’t I be gone for ten minutes without you setting something on fire?” She walked around the side of him, then jabbed at the barrel of his body. “Go back there and help them put it out. And apologize.”

Revaramek took a deep breath, then let it out in a growling sigh. “Fiiiiine.”

“And use water!”

“Yes, yes, I know how to douse flames.” Revaramek slunk back across the square.

Mirelle called out after him. “Don’t try and piss on it, or you’ll burn your bits off.”

“Like you’d care!”

“I’d care, cause I wouldn’t have anything left to kick! And don’t try and use your wings to blow it out with a gust, either! You’ll just spread the flames, and burn down the square.”

“Anything else, Madam Bossy Boots?” Revaramek glanced at her around the side of his body, hissing.

“Just use that horse trough, right there! And hurry up!”

Revaramek muttered under his breath. “This village sure has a lot of conveniently placed horse troughs.”

The trough in question lay alongside small stable at the corner of the square. Its three stalls sat empty aside from straw, but the horse trough at least was full of water. Revaramek grabbed it in a paw, and dragged it towards the food court where a veritable sea of shirtless peasants beat flaming tunics against a blazing food stand.

“Yes, you’re all doing a fine job fanning the flames.” Revaramek came to a stop behind them, sat on his haunches behind the trough, and snapped his jaws. “Move aside!”

Without actually waiting for any more to move aside, Revaramek hoisted the trough up in his forelegs, then swung it forward, sloshing water all over the peasants and the stall. A hissing cloud of vaguely urine-scented steam fled the dying flames, and the peasants gave a cheer as they beat the last of the embers with soaked clothing. Revaramek quickly backed away before the stinking water could reach his paws.

“There, see? That wasn’t so hard. You and all your various old grans may thank me with a show of devotion and tribute.” He turned around, careful of his tail, and walked back towards Mirelle. She glared at him from across the plaza, tapping her boot against the cobblestone. He splayed his ears, then glanced across his wings at the peasants. “Oh, and…ah…sorry, or something.”

“You!” Mirelle jabbed him on the nose as soon as he reached her.

Revaramek yelped and yanked his head back, rubbing his aching nose with a forepaw. “What are you so cranky about?”

“Sit!” She pointed at the ground. “Just sit down, and don’t move until I say so.”

Revaramek grumbled under his breath, easing onto his haunches. He gestured with his muzzle at the shop she’d been in. It was a small building with white walls. The scent of freshly worked leather wafted from their open door. “What are you doing in there, anyway?”

“Getting them ready to have you measured.”

“Measured?” Revaramek lifted his head, smirking. What a perfect time to make a joke about how big his-

“Yes, measured! And no filthy jokes, either.”

“Prude.”

“Hardly, dragon.” Mirelle made a show of glancing down between his hind legs. “Besides, from what I can see, it does a fine job of making itself a joke as it is.”

“HEY!” Revaramk hissed, curling his tail around his hind paws in a moment of sudden, frill-searing self consciousness. Then when Mirelle burst out laughing, he couldn’t help but snort and grin. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, woman. That was pretty good actually, I suppose I flew head first into that one.”

“You did.” Mirelle smirked back at him. Was that amusement he saw in her hazel eyes? “And thank you.”

Revaramek nodded his head once. “So what are you really having me measured for?”

“I’m starting to think it needs to be a big chain leash, so I can chain you in one place before you wreck my whole village.” She glanced away, and her whole body shuddered. “Instead its…a safety harness, so I can…well...ride you.” She shivered again. “In the…air.”

“I shan’t make a joke about your fear of heights, but can I at least make a joke about how you wish to ride my resplendency?”

Mirelle turned away, waving her hand.

“Oh, goody!” Revaramek leaned onto his tail, clapping his forepaws. “Let’s see…” He cleared his throat with a growl. “So, Mirelle, you want to…um…ride…me?”

Mirelle turned back towards him, one brow quirked. “That’s all you got?”

“No, just gimme…” Revaramek held up a paw, wracking his brain. Let’s see. Ride. Resplendent. Rid my…resplendent… “Oh, damn! I had something and I lost it.”

“Awww…” Mirelle cooed, sticking out her bottom. “Poor dragon forgot his funny joke.”

“Shut up.” He turned his head, flattening his wings against his sides. “So suddenly you want me to take you flying?”

“No!” Mirelle buried her face behind her hands, as if to hide from the very notion of leaving the ground again. “But…we have to go…another village. And…it would take at least a week on foot.” She dropped her hands down again, and stomped a boot near his paws. “And there’s no damn way I’m letting you carry me around like a doll again!”

Revaramek was glad he’d already curled his tail, given where she was stomping. “Point taken, Mirelle.” He shrugged his wings. “So why not a saddle?”

“A saddle?” Mirelle gave him a confused look, black curls waving in the breeze.

“Yes, you see a saddle is what a human puts on a horse.” He arched his neck, always glad to be informative. “To ride upon.”

“I know what a saddle is. I didn’t think you…” She jabbed his chest plates. “Would let me put a saddle on you-”

“I hardly have a choice while you’re using the truce against me.”

“Without a whole lot of bullshit first.” She smirked at him. “Or would that be dragon shit?”

When she stared at him, smiling, Revaramek cocked his head. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s…it’s a pun.”

“No it isn’t. A pun would be-”

“Never mind.” She turned away, shaking her head. “A saddle would take far too long, anyway. So I’m just going to have them rig up a sort of, harness for now, in case I…well….you know.”

“Fall?”

Mirelle tensed. “Don’t say that! Just…stay there. And let them measure you!”

“Oh, I’ll let them measure me.” The dragon arched his neck, spines up. “Send out some maidens, I’ll let them measure my spear!”

“Why? Not as though they need a lesson on draconic inadequacy!”

“HEY!” He hung his head a little, glaring at her. “You’ll eat those words when you see how-”

“If that thing makes an appearance, Dragon, my boot’s gonna send it right back into retreat.” She walked to the doorway, then glanced back at him, a devious grin etched across her lips. “In fact, while they measure you, I’ll be shopping for new shoes next door. Think I’ll look for something pointy in case I have to break them in!”

Revaramek pinned his ears back, growling at her. “You and your shoes don’t scare me!”

“I’m starting to think you like it!” Mirelle laughed, thumping her boot against the door frame. “Why else would you keep pressing me even when you know what’s going to happen?”

“I do not like it, you…” The dragon trailed off when Mirelle vanished into the shop, eliminating his chance to reply. “Oh, damn!”

After a few minutes, Mirelle returned with a couple women behind her. One wore a red skirt and flowing shirt, while the other wore a blue dress. Revaramek licked his nose, wonder why humans covered themselves in so many different kinds of things. The maidens who used to visit him unusually wore dresses and skirts, and thanks to Mirelle he knew they also wore breeches and things.

“Measure him however you need.” Mirelle waved at the dragon. “He’ll cooperate. If you want to take measurements for a saddle as well, it wouldn’t hurt. But for now I just need something you can cobble together as quickly as possible.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” said the woman in the dress, giving Mirelle a smile. Then she turned her attention to the dragon, a look of uncertainty flicking across her face. “If you’ll stand up, please, dragon…”

“Hello, ladies.” Revaramek arched his neck, rumbled a purr, and gave all three women his most charming smile as he pushed himself to all fours. “I’ll do anything you ask, of course.”

Mirelle rubbed her forehead. “If he misbehaves or does anything perverted, just kick him in the testicles or something.”

Revaramek glared at her. He didn’t like the giggles that idea drew from the three women, either. Made him want to stand with his tail tucked and his hind legs snug together. A shame it would make him look awkward to do so. “They can’t measure me if I’m rolling around on the ground, you know.”

“That’s a good point.” Mirelle smiled at the women. “Wait till you measure him, then kick him.”

The woman in the skirt tilted her head, twisting her measuring tape in her hands. “What, even if he doesn’t misbehave?”

“Hmm.” Mirelle pursed her lips, tapping a finger against her chin. “Now that’s a good question. Tell you what, I’ll leave that up to your judgement. And you!” She pointed at the dragon. “No sniffing at everyone!”

“How else am I to acquaint myself with their scents?”

“You aren’t! Just stand still and behave yourself.” Mirelle gave a growling sigh and walked away, muttering to herself. “After all this trouble, you better be one hell of a bandit slayer.”

“I heard that!” Revaramek hissed, thumped his webbed tail spines against the cobblestone. “And I am! Why, I’m the greatest bandit slayer who’s ever been known to…slay…bandits.” That didn’t come out sounding quite as glorious as he’d hoped. Ah, well, he had more important things on his mind than putting Mirelle in her place. He cleared his throat with a growl before offering the others his most sincere smile once again. “Now where we were? Ah yes, hello, ladies.”

One of the women gulped and stepped back. “H-h-h-hello d-d-d-dragon.”

Perhaps he’d shown a few too many fangs in that smile. As much as he enjoyed inspiring terror, he didn’t want to frighten such fair maidens. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you lovely damsels. I promise I won’t hurt-”

“Who are you calling a damsel?” The woman in the dress came forward, flashing him a glare that looked suspiciously like the sort of expression Mirelle had right before she doled out justice to his poor jewels. “There’s no one in distress here, dragon!”

“I don’t…erm…I’m…sorry?” Revaramek cocked his head. “I was just trying to say you’re all beautiful maidens, and-”

“Oh, maidens now, is it?” The woman thwacked her own measuring tape against her palm. “Is that how you like them? Innocent and virginal? You make me sick!”

“Wh-what?” Now it was Revaramek’s turn to stammer, confused. He took a step back, tail curling. “I didn’t mean…” He whined, then gnashed his teeth. “I was trying to compliment you!”

“Trying to get up my dress is more like it!” The woman in the blue dress followed him, then bopped him on the nose with her measuring tape. “I ought to kick you square in the stones, just like Lady Mirelle said!”

“Can’t I go one day without someone kicking me in the balls?”

“You ought to be strung up in stocks so all the poor women of the village can have a turn paddling your scaly ass!”

“What?!” Revaramek’s eyes went wide. “There’s no way you have a stockade that big!”

“We’ll have one built! We’ll call it…” She waved her measuring tape, her glare crumbling. “Dragon…Ass…paddling...day.” When the other two women broke into laughter, the woman in the dress did the same. “Oh! Your face, dragon!”

Revaramek cocked his head, frills half extended as he made a questioning noise. “Arrrrh? Are you…making a joke on me?”

“You seem to have done good job making yourself a joke, but, yes.” Still laughing, the women in the dress walked him, and worked her tape around the top of his foreleg. “It was just a prank. Never had a chance to prank a dragon before, couldn’t well pass it up, could I?”

“I...” A smile slowly crept across his muzzle as she measured his limb’s circumference. “Suppose not. I do enjoy a good prank. Though, I usually prefer to be the one pulling it.”

The woman in the skirt, no longer feigning nervousness, walked to his other foreleg. “Yes, Dragon, I’m sure you love ‘pulling it’ don’t you.”

“What? Pulling…” Revaramek grinned when he caught on. “Oooooh. Oh, so you’re bawdy and quick to pull a prank. I like you two.”

“Do you now?” She patted his foreleg. “Leg up, please.”

Revaramek lifted his foreleg, and soon felt the woman’s hands against his chest and belly. “Yes, you’re already more fun than Mirelle. All she does is yell and kick me and yell about kicking me.”

“Do you deserve to be kicked?” The other woman tossed one end of her long measuring tape over his back, then brought it around the base of his neck.

“That’s beside the point.” Revaramek laughed, tilting his head down to watch them work. Their fingers and measuring tapes tickled at his scales.

“Sounds like a yes to me.” The two women compared tapes, making little marks upon them with bits of chalk.

“It’s not my fault it’s great sport to drive her mad.” The dragon cast a glance at Mirelle, who sat on a bench comparing pairs of boots. A man in a brown vest and with a balding head was showing her a third pair. “She should see the look on her face when she’s about to lose it!”

“Probably almost as funny as the look on your face when you thought I was going to have you put in stocks.” She made a few more marks, then stepped away and fetched a step ladder. She gestured at the ground. “Could you lie down please? And may I climb upon your back a moment?”

“Said the dragon, to the dragoness.” Revaramek eased himself to the ground, stretching out upon his belly. “And yes, you may, thank you for asking first.”

“Oh? Only takes you dragons a moment, does it?” The women in the dress fetched a step ladder, and used it to help climb up onto the dragons back where she sat sideways at the base of his neck.

Revaramek snorted, flattening back his spines. “Only the first time! Or…two.”

“Sounds just like most of the men I know.” The second woman threw the first the tape measure, and together they measured across his back, and around his chest. “And really, if you’re making Mirelle mad on purpose, you can’t act surprised when she lashes out at you.”

“I can too. So…” The dragon rumbled, and gave them a smile. “Am I big, or what?”

“Not as big as I expected.” The woman on his back climbed back down the step ladder.

Revaramek hung his head, muttering. “I’ll show you big. Wait till you see my…” He trailed off, no sense giving them an excuse to follow Mirelle’s instructions too closely.

 “Alright then.” The woman in the dress folded her arms. “Let’s see it then.”

“W-what?” Revaramek lifted his head, his spines flared. “Now?”

“Yes, go on.” The woman in the skirt scratched a few marks down on her measuring tape. “You’ve talked it up, so you may as well show  us what a dragon’s got.”

“Here? In public?” Revaramek glanced around, whining. A small crowd of people had gathered, watching from a distance. “I’m not sure I can…you know…with all these peasants watching? Perhaps…later, in…in private…”

“Oh, I see how it is.” The one in the blue dress shook her head. “Talk a big game, but when it comes time for action, they can’t even get the blood pumping. Typical male!”

“What?” Revaramek pinned all his spines back, aghast. “I do not have that problem!” When ladies burst into shared laughter again, he realized he’d been had. “Oh, you bawdy wenches! That’s twice now!”

“You make it too easy.” She folded up her measuring tape, and gave the dragon a smile, and a little bow. “But it was fun putting a scare into you. My name is Yasmeen, by the way. It was nice making your acquaintance.”

“Indeed it was.” The dragon bowed his head, best he could. “I am Revaramek the Resplendent, aptly named as surely you can see. He glanced at the woman with the skirt. “And you are?”

“Abira.” She made the same wobbly-legged dip that Beka had when he’d first met her. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

Revaramek smirked at them. “Of course it was. Perhaps later, I’ll let you measure something else.” He clicked his teeth. “In private, though.”

Abira and Yasmeen glanced at each other, grinning. “Well, we could measure his hind end.”

“Yes, we’d need to have proper measurements to have a stockade built.”

“Very funny, ladies.” Revaramek tossed his head. “Just don’t give the paddle to Mirelle. She’ll aim a bit lower than the haunches.”

“Who says I wouldn’t do the same?” Abira gave him a wave as she walked back to the shop. “Bye, Revaramek! Tell Mirelle we’ll have it ready as soon as possible.”

When the two women had returned to their shop, Revaramek padded next door. The store Mirelle was shopping it was smaller place with a carved wooden shoe sitting atop it’s roof. A few wooden racks and displays like skeleton trees bearing boots as fruit were set up around the entryway. Mirelle strode back and forth in a pair of red leather boots, hmming to herself.

“I’m not sure I like the fit of these as much as the last pair.”

The vendor nodded a few times. “They’re a bit tighter in the arch and toes. I’d be happy to take Ma’am’s measurements and cobble a custom pair.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that.” Mirelle walked back to the bench and sat down, smiling at the vendor. “But I’m going to need a new pair today, nonetheless. I can’t conduct proper business with old boots that smell like the swamp.”

Revaramek settled himself nearby. “The marsh you mean.”

Mirelle glanced up at him as she unlaced her boots. “Same thing.”

The dragon snorted, then licked his muzzle a few times to ease the sudden, bitter taste on his tongue. “No, Mirelle, it is not.”

“You’ll have to enlighten me some other time, then.” She pulled a boot off and handed it back to the vendor. “As soon as the harness is ready, we’re going.”

“Where exactly is it that we’re going?” Revaramek scratched his neck with a wing tip, trying to push the swamp from his mind.

“To another village, next in line to be burned if I’m correct.” She unlaced and removed her other boot. “Can you read a map?”

“Never tried. But just point me in the right direction and I’ll go there.”

“Close enough.” She passed the boot to the vendor who returned them to their display place.

“So we go there, and kill the bandits?” Revaramek curled his tail. That sounded easy enough. “Don’t suppose you know who they are?”

“Not exactly. That’s part of the reason we’re going there, to investigate.” She pointed out a few more pairs of boots to the Vendor. “Find out more about them aside from the fact they’re lead by an Urd’thin.”

“What?” Revaramek recoiled, hissing. “An Urd’thin? That’s all it is? A scrawny little rat-dog? I’ll just eat the bastard and be done with it.”

“First.” Mirelle jabbed her finger in the air. “That’s a horrible thing to call an urd’thin. Rat-dog is a terrible slur and I don’t want to hear you say it. Bad enough I have to tolerate such racism from an old councilman, but I won’t take it from you.”

“Says the one who can’t even pronounce the species of her friend.” He smirked, snapping his teeth. “Tavaat is a va’chaak, not a veechak or a vahchalk or a damn lizardman!”

Mirelle ignored him completely. “Second, this urd’thin in particular is suspected to be responsible for burning at least three villages in the last few months. So despite his people’s unfair reputation, he is not to be taken lightly.”

“Sounds like you like the urd’thin.”

Mirelle took a pair of green boots from the vendor, looked them over, then shook her head and passed them back. She glanced at the dragon. “I like all peoples equally. But, if you must know…” She giggled. “I think Urd’thin are adorable, with their big ears and little horns. I’ve had a few visit my tavern, and every time I just want to go around hugging them all.”

Revaramek’s ears drooped, his spines hung limp around his head. “Why don’t you ever want to hug me?”

“Because they’re adorable and fluffy, and you’re a big, scaly pervert.”

“I still like hugs.” He snorted, stretching a wing forward. He turned his head to nibble at an itch around his wingtip talon. “And yes, I’m sure they’re just as adorable when they’re digging through your dumpsters and rifling through your pockets.”

“That is a wicked stereotype of an unfairly maligned people, and I won’t have it.” Mirelle took a black pair of boots from the vendor, looking them over.

“Oh, sure, stand up for the urd’thin.” Revaramek folded his wing back, waving a paw in the air. “But what about the dragons? I don’t see you standing up for us! We’re the ones being mistreated!”

“You’re the only dragon I’ve ever met, and I feel I should tell that so far, you’ve given your people a horrible name.” Mirelle ran her finger over the boot’s pointed toe, smirking at the dragon. “Oooh, I like these.”

Revaramek gulped. “I don’t.”

“Good! Then maybe they’ll keep you in line.” She tugged one over her foot, laced it up, and then did the same with its twin. Mirelle stood and took a few steps. “They fit well, too.” She smiled at the Vendor. “I’ll take them! And I’ll keep them on.”

The dragon grumbled, tracing an unsheathed claw in a circle on a cobblestone. “Of course you will.”

Mirelle fished some coins out of her purse, then passed them to the vendor before she turned around to the dragon, flashing him a wicked grin. “Any more casual racism out of you, and I’m going to try these out. Now come on, I’ve another errand to run while the harness is made and I clearly can’t let you be on your own.”

Revaramek sighed, and followed the girl across the plaza. “You are going to get such a bumpy flight.”